Why A Spoon?
by Gargoyle13
Summary: Character POV: Guy of Gisborne inquires with the Sheriff about using a spoon to cut out Robin's heart. Some insight into Guy's mind and soul.


**Title:** Why A Spoon?

**Author:** Gargoyle13

**Fandom:** Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves

**Character(s): ** Guy of Gisborne; Sheriff of Nottingham

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Guy's thoughts on the spoon threat and some other things.

**Comments & Reviews:** Constructive comments and feedback are always welcome.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and no one, which vexes me greatly.

**A/N:** Yes I am a Guy of Gisborne fan and Michael Wincott is the only true Guy of Gisborne.

**Warnings:** All the usual for me – language, suggested violence, etc.

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We're in my cousin's chambers and are awaiting the "little ferret" as my cousin terms him, to stitch the slice on my cousin's face. A gift, courtesy of Robin the Hood, incurred this morning in the Bishop's chambers. My oaf of a cousin had to fall back into me, pin me against the wall, squirming and yelling about his face…if he would've moved… Clumsy ox is taller and heavier than me and having him knock me back and then stomp on my foot, not to mention elbow me in the ribs in his zeal to get into the Bishop's quarters and get his hands on Robin… I shake my head. If he would've gotten out of the way when I tried to shove him aside, Robin would be here, in the dungeons right now and not out there, wherever he is. If only my cousin let me do a lot of things my way and didn't always insist that he knew better…

The ferret has arrived with his supplies, so I sigh heavily, grab an apple and take a bite. This could be a while since my cousin is ever so vain about his appearance and will likely insist that the stitches be small and precise, so as to not cause a scar. I sneer as I remember how unconcerned he was years ago when I, myself, sat similarly, bleeding and in agony…

"Why a spoon, cousin? Why not an axe?" I have been pondering this as I savour the crisp apple, leaning against the pillar in my cousin's quarters while waiting for that little ferret to begin stitching.

"Because it's _dull_, you twit. It'll hurt more."

Admittedly, I have never been the bright one of the bloodline; more often than not I follow my cousin's lead, take orders from him and am simply the brute enforcer. But I'm no twit. I just don't see the point of dragging things out. If you have the man down, just finish the task – cut his heart out in the most efficient manner possible: axe, sword, dagger, whatever. Finish it and be done – no worries about him somehow getting away. Not my cousin though; he always was into the pain. Even as children I can recall that he was fascinated by how much I or any of the other children could tolerate before we would yell (and sometimes he would make us beg) for him to stop.

He's irritated that Locksley is now one-up on him – and nothing irks my cousin more than that. Well, almost nothing…there are a few things, but right now Robin is really under his skin. Robin, Robin, Robin… I continue eating my apple and cross the room, trying to pay attention. My cousin has gone into a tirade and I have lost the battle to pay attention. Now I am enjoying my apple and only listen for key words to tell me what he wants me to do. Or, I should say, what his plans are for me to do…if he would leave me to my own devices, let me handle it as I see fit, we wouldn't be having this problem. I smile cruelly as I approach the chest across the room, telling the ferret with my eyes that it would be best for him to relocate as quickly as possible.

"…starve…slaughter…no, take their livestock…want his own people fighting to bring his head in…"

"Perhaps we could create a name for him. Sometime to drive fear into the hearts of the populous, maybe "Locksley the Lethal", or "Wreaking Robin"…" I try not to laugh but cannot help the smirk. I have no idea where the last thought came from; it doesn't even make sense now that I've said it. Thankfully, my cousin is too busy seething and plotting to notice. Quickly, I take another bite of apple, masking my smirk since I know what is coming next.

"Whatever! I want him dead by the next full moon, before the barons come back." His attention now turns to the ferret, hovering over his left shoulder and waiting. "Now sew! And keep the stitches small."

Rolling my eyes, I nod, having known full well those would be his orders to the ferret and knowing that he is watching me out of the corner of his eye, believing I am nodding and agreeing. I chew at the core of the apple, noting that it would've been far easier if the ferret had bothered to clean the blood from my cousin's face before beginning to sew…but far be it for me to point such a trivial thing out. Really, I want to ask my cousin what the point is of going after the people and why not just pursue Robin… The people won't do anything except hide the outlaw. This includes, I strongly suspect, the object of my cousin's lust – Lady Marian. But I know that question or observation will only enrage him again and I'll be rushing for the door, trying to avoid the fists and kicks aimed at me as I have so many times in the past.


End file.
